Sacrifice.
It’s a word I’ve been thinking about a lot lately.
Ten months ago, when I left home and moved to Peru, I didn’t think I was sacrificing that much. I knew I would be leaving my home. My family and friends. My church. Leaving a way of life that I knew and that was comfortable. I was giving up working in a hospital, pursuing my love of the ER. I was postponing going to grad school. But I saw the next two years of my life as a grand adventure, a reckless pursuit of God’s plan for my life. To say I was excited to move to another country, to live in the jungle, to experience something new and exciting, to dive into the ministry God had called me to, would have been an understatement.
From the time I decided to come to Peru until the day I landed in Lima, there was honestly so much excitement and fear of the unknown and emotional roller coasters to even think about sacrifice; to think about these things I was supposedly sacrificing. They were in the background as I dealt with an overload of emotions.
That is until I went home in June. The moment I landed in Chicago, the moment I was re-exposed to all that makes up culture and life in the States, those thoughts and more plummeted down on me.
I missed not being the tallest person in the room. People walking fast. The order and organization that defines our culture (can you tell I’m type A?). I missed the softness of carpet under my feet. The smell of laundry washed with fabric softener. Being able to curl up on a comfortable, familiar couch with my dog, a blanket, and a cup of coffee. I missed Reese’s and having a cold glass of milk with dinner. And oh how I missed all things Mexican food! I missed waking up in the morning knowing I could sit down with my mom and share our morning coffee. I missed meals with my family. Getting coffee with friends. I missed being able to go to one store and buy everything I needed in one place. And being able to drive there. I missed the conveniences and comforts that come with living in the States. Conveniences and comforts I had never defined as such until coming home.
Each time one of these moments occurred I began to realize with increasing profoundness that being in Peru was the definition of sacrifice, even if some of these things are small, and whether I wanted to accept it or not.
Then someone asked me the following question recently - “When people here [from the jungle] hear that you’re from the United States and living here, many of them wonder why you, coming from a place that has everything, would choose to come here, to the middle of nowhere. Why would you give up everything to come to a place where there is nothing?”
This hit me hard. Never had I thought about it like that. That I have left everything familiar, everything comfortable, a home and life where I literally had everything I could want and then some, to come here and live in the jungle, a place where I shower with cold water, live in a house with no air conditioning, hang my laundry out to dry because there is no such thing as a dryer, where homes have tin roofs and the electricity and water don’t always work, and the water from the sink cannot be consumed.
Why? Why did I do it? Why did I trade familiar for the unknown? And why do I stay?
My first thought was because I love it! It’s not always easy. There are days I could give anything for a glass of milk or to make one quick trip to Walmart. But every day is an adventure. Every day I am learning something new. Every day I see God doing unbelievable things in and around me.
But that’s not the root of it; the real answer to this question. Although this may all be true, I’m not here for the adventure. Not even because I love it. I’m here because all of those commodities, all of those conveniences in the States, the comforts, they are nice to have and certainly make life easier, but they don’t fulfill. Nothing I can buy will ever satisfy. No matter how comfortable and easy I make my life with things, I will never be satisfied. My friends and family cannot satisfy. I know because I have tried. I have tried to find fulfillment and purpose in things and my identity in friends. But it was never enough.
God is the only one who can satisfy. The only One who gives us purpose and fulfillment. No matter where you live, your economic status, the conveniences and commodities that surround you unnoticed, the answer is and always will be Jesus. That’s why I’m here. To proclaim the love and peace and purpose that is found in Christ. That He alone satisfies.
I am learning each day what it means to sacrifice for Christ, what it means to drop everything and follow him with reckless abandon. What it means and looks like to be a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to the Lord. Moving to another country does not mean that I am done sacrificing. That I have met my quota and can now live comfortably. Sacrifice takes place daily no matter where you live, what your occupation is, or what you have already given up. God is constantly calling us deeper. To surrender more fully to His will. Even when it’s hard. Even when it means missing home and carpet and fabric softener. But each time I think about some aspect of home I miss or crave something familiar, God replaces that longing with something better. Every. Single. Time. We serve a God who sees our need and longing. But He doesn’t stop there. He sees and chooses to comfort us and meet us right where we are with just what we need to remind us that He is there and sovereign and a wonderful Father. I will give up more if it means following Him and continuing to find fulfillment and purpose and identity in the One who sustains me each day.
****
What does it look like for you to sacrifice daily to follow Christ?
What are you willing to give up if He asked you to? Would you?
Are there things you aren’t willing to give up? Why? What’s holding you back?